Let the Suffering End
by peacefulsands
Summary: Written for the prompt, "You have suffered enough / And warred with yourself / It's time that you won." and set Post end of Season 5.    Castiel offers comfort when Dean survives the end.


**Let the Suffering End**

**Written for the prompt : Supernatural, Dean/Castiel, "You have suffered enough / And warred with yourself / It's time that you won." (Falling Slowly, Swell Season)**

**Disclaimer : **All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. No money is being made from this work. No copyright infringement is intended.

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Physical healing helped but it would never, could never be enough. Castiel watched as Dean moved away from him. "Dean, wait. Please wait," Castiel said softly.

Dean halted, head hanging, defeat etched into every line of his body. Castiel moved closer, letting one hand come to rest on Dean's lower back. "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean shrugged. There was nothing to be said, they'd done what they had to do, averted the apocalypse and now . . . Sam and Adam were gone. His only purpose in life had gone, Sam. He hadn't saved him and to top it all he'd gained and lost another brother into the bargain. All because he was a useless shit who couldn't do what needed to be done.

Castiel's eyes were on Dean, but he hadn't reacted to the angel's contact and now he was lost in his own thoughts, literally. For the moment, Castiel took charge, guiding Dean to the car, encouraging him to sit in the passenger seat before walking round and taking the driver's seat himself. He started the engine and looked across to see if there was a reaction from Dean. Nothing, the hunter was just staring directly ahead.

Castiel drove for a few hours before pulling off and into a motel car park. With a frown, he looked at Dean, spoke to him but still got no reaction. He got out of the car and crossed to the office, arranging a room for the next two nights. Room key in hand he returned to the car, lifted out Dean's duffle bag before rounding to the passenger door, opening it and bending down. "Dean . . ." He waited, but there was no response. He brushed a hand down the side of Dean's face, letting his fingers drift back into Dean's hair.

Resigned, he stood again, gently taking hold of Dean's arm and pulling him out of the car, picking up the bag again and guiding Dean across the parking lot to their room. He opened the door, led Dean in and let him drop to sit on the bed. He locked the door behind them, dropped the bag out of the way and then turned his attention back to Dean.

Bending down, he removed Dean's shoes, then stood again to removed his leather jacket and overshirt. Finally Dean made eye-contact, his breath catching in his throat, "Cas."

"I'm here, Dean. You should rest." Dean nodded, stood slowly, disconsolately. He made his way to the bathroom and when he returned a few minutes later, he shed his jeans before climbing into the bed and rolling onto his side facing away from Castiel.

Castiel crossed the room, shedding his own clothes as he went before climbing into bed behind Dean and wrapping his arms around him, pulling him closer, protecting him. Dean shivered and started to pull away. "Sssh, relax," Castiel murmured.

Dean just tried harder to get free and so Castiel let go and once Dean was sitting upright, feet of the side of the bed, he adjusted his own position to sit alongside. "Okay, Dean, we need to talk."

Dean didn't respond and so Castiel pressed again, "What's this about, Dean? Have I done something to upset you?"

Dean's eyes closed, he drew a ragged breath before finally shaking his head and murmuring, "It's not you."

Castiel lifted a hand and cupped Dean's cheek, pulling him closer when he tried again to pull away. "Then what is it? I understand that Sam . . ."

"Sam's in Hell."

Castiel sighed, "I know that, Dean. I know that you regret that it happened . . ."

"Regret! What do you mean I regret it happened?" Dean gasped. "Regret doesn't begin to touch what I think about it."

"Then let me offer you comfort, nothing more," Castiel remained calm.

"You can't . . . there is no comfort for this and . . . and even if there were I shouldn't have it, I don't deserve it. I deserve to live with the fact I failed, I couldn't save Sam and fuck, I couldn't even keep Adam out of trouble. So I don't fucking deserve a thing!"

Castiel moved closer, enveloping Dean in arms, body, warmth and the soothing essence of his Grace as he said softly, "You have suffered enough, and warred with yourself. It's time that you won. We cannot change what has happened, what Lucifer and Michael brought down on your family and this earth, but God saw fit for you to survive, to be healed and for me to be here. Winning may not be what we had first thought, but maybe we are being offered something more than we had before."

Dean let his weight ease back into the offered safety of Castiel's embrace, the tension wasn't gone, the pain and loss could not just vanish, but for now Castiel would accept that Dean understood what he was offering and that this at least was a place to begin.


End file.
